There was a time — and it wasn’t that long ago — when Australian politics had a very simple job description. A politician’s role was to govern. Not to perform. Not to posture. Not to build a personal brand on social media. Govern. But don’t tell Australia… Politics is dead.
The job was simple in theory: represent your electorate, argue policy, negotiate compromise, pass legislation, and keep the machinery of a functioning country moving forward.
It was messy. It was imperfect. It involved backroom deals and late-night negotiations and the occasional bruising argument in the chamber.
But it had a basic operating principle.
Politics was about governing.
Not activism.
Not ideological theatre.
Not the endless moral performance that now seems to dominate modern parliamentary culture.
And somewhere along the way — quietly, gradually, almost imperceptibly — the balance shifted.
The Australian Parliament stopped looking like a chamber of policymakers.
And started looking more like a convention of activists with voting rights.
The Parliament That Used to Be
To understand how strange modern politics has become, it helps to remember what Australian political leadership used to look like.
Leaders like Bob Hawke, Paul Keating, John Howard, and even Kevin Rudd came from a political culture where the primary currency was policy.
They had ideological differences — often enormous ones — but their professional identities were built around governing.
Budgets.
Economic reform.
Trade agreements.
Industrial relations.
Foreign policy.
They were political operators.
Negotiators.
Deal-makers.
They understood the ugly reality that governing a country of 26 million people means compromise, pragmatism, and sometimes swallowing policies you personally dislike because the numbers in parliament demand it.
Politics was still ideological.
But it was functional ideology.
The goal was still to run the country.
The Cultural Shift
Fast forward to today, and something has changed.
A growing number of parliamentary figures appear to approach politics not as a governing exercise, but as a platform for activism.
The distinction matters.
An activist’s job is to advocate a cause.
A politician’s job is to balance competing interests across an entire society.
Activists are rewarded for moral clarity.
Politicians are rewarded for workable solutions.
Activists rally supporters.
Politicians manage systems.
Activists often see compromise as betrayal.
Politicians see compromise as the only way anything actually happens.
And when activism begins replacing governance inside a parliament, the entire tone of politics shifts.
Debates become symbolic.
Policy becomes secondary.
The performance of virtue begins to outweigh the craft of governing.
The Social Media Parliament
The rise of activist-style politics has coincided with another major shift.
The transformation of political communication.
In the pre-social media era, a politician’s primary audience was their colleagues in parliament and the voters in their electorate.
Today, their primary audience is often the internet.
Clips.
Posts.
Viral moments.
Short, emotionally charged messages that travel far beyond the chamber walls.
The incentive structure changes dramatically.
Complex policy discussions don’t go viral.
Angry speeches do.
Nuanced economic arguments don’t trend on social media.
Moral outrage does.
Which means politicians increasingly operate inside an ecosystem that rewards activist-style communication.
The New Political Persona
Look at some of the most prominent figures dominating modern parliamentary debate.
Figures such as Fatima Payman, Mehreen Faruqi, Sarah Hanson-Young, and Lidia Thorpe have built political identities strongly tied to advocacy movements.
Their supporters view this as courage.
A willingness to speak out on issues of justice, representation, and global politics.
But critics argue that this approach reflects a broader shift away from traditional parliamentary responsibility.
Instead of focusing primarily on domestic governance, some politicians increasingly frame themselves as movement leaders.
Voices for causes.
Campaigners inside the chamber.
Activists with legislative authority.
The parliamentary chamber becomes not just a place to legislate.
But a stage.
The Expanding Definition of Activism
Of course, activism is not confined to any one political party.
Even figures within government are often accused of leaning heavily into ideological messaging rather than pragmatic governance.
Critics of Anthony Albanese argue that his long political career has been deeply shaped by movement politics within the labour movement.
Similarly, ministers such as Katy Gallagher have faced accusations from opponents that their politics prioritise ideological frameworks over practical governance outcomes.
Whether one agrees with those critiques or not, they highlight a broader perception that modern politics is increasingly shaped by activist energy.
When Parliament Becomes a Rally
One of the consequences of activist-style politics is that parliamentary debate begins to resemble something closer to a rally than a legislative process.
Speeches become slogans.
Debates become performances aimed at audiences outside the chamber.
The goal shifts from persuading colleagues to mobilising supporters.
This can create an environment where political theatre dominates the agenda.
Instead of asking:
“How do we solve this problem?”
The conversation becomes:
“How do we signal our moral position on this problem?”
The difference between those two questions may sound subtle.
But it transforms the entire function of politics.
The Compromise Problem
Compromise is the lifeblood of parliamentary democracy.
No political party in Australia governs alone forever.
Every major reform — from Medicare to gun laws to economic restructuring — required negotiation.
Activist politics, however, often treats compromise as weakness.
Movements succeed by drawing clear lines.
They demand purity.
They mobilise supporters by emphasising moral certainty.
Inside a protest movement, that approach makes sense.
Inside a parliament responsible for managing a nation, it can create paralysis.
Because governing a diverse society requires constant balancing of competing interests.
The Identity Politics Era
Another major shift shaping modern parliament is the rise of identity-driven political narratives.
Many contemporary political figures frame their roles as representatives not only of geographic electorates but of broader social identities.
Gender.
Ethnicity.
Cultural background.
Historical grievances.
These conversations can be important.
But when identity becomes the dominant framework for political engagement, it can also intensify division.
Politics begins to operate less around shared national priorities and more around competing narratives of representation.
Once again, the activist mindset begins to dominate.
Because activism thrives on identity mobilisation.
Governance requires something slightly different.
Shared civic responsibility.
The Hollow Centre
And this is where the concept of the Hollow Centre begins to explain the strange political environment we now inhabit.
The traditional centre of politics — the space where pragmatic negotiation occurred — begins to empty out.
The loudest voices move toward ideological edges.
Activist rhetoric dominates public discourse.
Meanwhile, the quiet, complicated work of governing struggles to capture attention.
The centre doesn’t disappear entirely.
But it becomes hollow.
Less visible.
Less influential.
Less exciting.
And in a political culture driven by spectacle, excitement wins.
The Voters’ Role
It would be easy to blame politicians entirely for this transformation.
But voters play a role as well.
Modern media environments reward outrage.
Social media algorithms amplify emotional content.
Political figures who speak calmly about regulatory reform rarely trend online.
Those who deliver fiery speeches about injustice often do.
In other words, the system increasingly rewards politicians who behave like activists.
Because activism is emotionally compelling.
Governance is bureaucratically complex.
One is viral.
The other is boring.
And in the digital age, boring doesn’t travel far.
The Consequences
So what happens when activism becomes the dominant style of parliamentary politics?
Several things begin to occur.
Policy discussions become simplified.
International conflicts get reframed through domestic ideological lenses.
Complex economic debates get reduced to slogans.
And political polarisation deepens.
The chamber becomes louder.
But not necessarily more productive.
More performative.
But not necessarily more effective.
The Final Question
None of this means activism is inherently bad.
Social movements have historically played a crucial role in driving political change.
But movements and governments serve different purposes.
Movements push.
Governments manage.
Movements demand.
Governments balance.
Movements mobilise.
Governments govern.
When those roles blur too completely, the entire political ecosystem begins to tilt.
And that raises the question at the heart of today’s Hollow Centre conversation.
Has Australian politics reached a point where activism has replaced governance as the dominant political identity?
Or are we simply witnessing a transitional moment in the evolution of modern democracy?
Because one thing is certain.
The Australian Parliament today feels very different from the one that existed twenty or thirty years ago.
Less like a chamber of pragmatic deal-makers.
More like a gathering of ideological campaigners.
And whether you see that as progress or decline probably depends on one simple question.
Do you want your politicians to be activists?
Or do you want them to be politicians?
Because increasingly, it seems the line between those two roles is disappearing.
– By The Hollow Centre
